This is Where I Belong
by CherryPanda116
Summary: "I don't fit in." those are the words most witches and wizards speak. So where do they belong, if not there? "Hogwarts is just fine."


**This is Where I Belong**

**Chapter One: The Red Stamp of Approval**

_Spring cold is more sever than Autumn cold_. Those were the words his parents would always speak. However, the differences did not seem distinguishable, because it seemed colder than winter, and to his demise there was not even a bare glance of snow.

"Kavan." said his teacher's voice, snapping him back to reality. The teacher never actually scolded him, opposed to some of the annoying playboys in the class. He glanced at the board and it took him not a moment to figure it out.

"Three Million and Ninty-One." he said. He had to live up to the small nickname that the class had given him, Calculator.

He put a large check mark next to the question, after writing down the answer. Not that he had taken in a particular interest, of course. This was nothing compared to the overprotective activity he got from his own parents. Chinese School, just about Grade Eleven Maths, and their occasional trips to Hong Kong or Beijing.

After school, his friend Evan had started to leave after their small conversation on a Role Play Game.

"See you." he said, and began to walk home.

Alone.

Even Kavan had to admit, perhaps he was a _bit_ envious. He was the only one who still walked home with his parents. He would not be allowed to leave school premises until his parents arrived.

As they walked home, Kavan adjusted his vest tighter. It was quite chilly…

"Do you need a heavier jacket? You'll catch a cold." his dad said in Chinese.

"No." he replied quickly but calmly.

There was an awkward silence as red leaves drifted across the air, joining many piles that had also ended up in the drift.

As they entered the house, Mr. Jien opened the mailbox and slid his hand through it, checking for mail. He only received one letter. The father took one glance and threw it on the floor, a slightly repulsed look. He had been for the last week, and the sheer number of them was enough to fill every single Recycle bin and garbage can in his house. He was only afraid they'd get impatient. Kavan assumed it was from his job. Or perhaps bills. They were planning on canceling their credit cards' anyway.

He walked inside. His younger sister would arrive in half an hour. So he had half an hour to himself.

He sat on his bed, and snuck under his bed. He pulled out a certain book and started reading it. This book wasn't the same as every other book on the shelf. This had nothing to do with WWII, nimbocumulus clouds, the study of Albert Einstein's suggestions, or anything similar. This was different. It was fiction.

It was about a girl named Dorothy who confronts a tornado and puts on Silver shoes, thus beginning her unbelievable adventure. He wasn't allowed to read Fiction, because his parents didn't want him thinking about a fake life.

Soon, he heard the cheerful voice of Ivy Jien, his younger sister. Not soon after, his mother completed a dinner of (which no one would be able to see except for their dad) Siu Mei and a small portion of Kai-lan as a side dish.

The same routine. The same days. It seemed no different, and no one noticed the slight differences. Not until a week after.

His mom was in the kitchen when a dash of brown came directly through his window, fifteen minutes after he arrived home, also fifteen minutes before Ivy would come inside, with her cheerful voice announcing a weightless "I'm home!"

He watched as the bird slammed into his closet door and recovered, shaking it's feathers in recovery and recoil.

Kavan inched closer to it. He saw a letter attached on one of it's legs.

He pried it off of the barn owl, and perplexingly, as soon as done it flew off at an alarming speed, Kavan running to the window, nearly throwing himself off the edge, watching the owl camouflage with the Autumn leaves and soon fly out of sight.

"What…" he began, and glanced back at the letter. He looked at the front. Instead of being normally sealed, there was a large, blood red stamp.

_'Mr K. Jien_

_The Room On The Left, Second Floor_

_221 Murray Boulevard_

_Kattel_

_Britain'_

* * *

It was cold, that much was obvious. Snow fell, littering the otherwise bland, grey atmosphere. No one was out, for the most part, and as the sun set, turning the sky a brilliant kaleidoscope of orange and pink, the streets were nearly deserted. Save for one.

Alina pulled her coat around her, and tucked her nose under her scarf as she ducked into the door leading to her house.

As soon as she entered the two-story brick building, she relaxed at the sudden change of atmosphere. Inhaling the heat, she took the stairs two at a time and dumped her bag in her bedroom before bounding down the stairs once more. Her destination was the kitchen, in hoping for a snack. She could just imagine the warm chocolate that awaited her. Or maybe some leftover pasta. Or-

"Where were you?"

Alina winced at the icy tone in her mother's voice. She whipped around, pasting a smile on her face. "I was just—"

"It's cold outside. You know better to be out there. Especially when your father has already left for church! Oh," she continued, sneering. "I forgot. You're a sinner now. Never mind."

She stayed quiet, looking down and digging her foot into the carpet.

Her mom took a step forward. "Well?" she demanded. "Where were you?"

Aline swallowed. "Nora's house. Studying."

"You didn't tell me."

"You weren't here. I thought..."

"You are not to leave this house without my permission, is that clear?!" she hissed.

Alina had to bite her tongue to keep from lashing out. Since confessing her self—her true self—to her parents, they had treated her like some bimbo that went out partying and doing boys and drugs like candy.

"Yes, ma'am," she muttered through gritted teeth.

"Your room. Now. No dinner tonight, either."

"What?!" Alina exclaimed. "That's not fair!"

"If you're living under our roof, you're living under our rules. Now go!"

And so she went, tossing a glare over her shoulder as she raced up the stairs and into her bedroom.

It was night time and Alina was hungry.

She was used to it, but it still annoyed her, and she put her pencil down, leaving the unfinished homework she had been working on on her desk.

It was dead boring and she couldn't concentrate anyway. Might as well accept her C+ and be glad it wasn't a D. At least her teachers took pity on her.

They all thought she was an idiot anyway.

The brunette took a seat on her bed and took out a book and began to read, but after a few minutes of that, she found she couldn't concentrate on fantasy novels either.

Instead, she heaved a little sigh and crawled under her covers, with the intention of sleeping.

And she probably would have slept—relatively well, at least, for a hungry girl, as she was a heavy sleeper when she did sleep—if not for the sound.

Instead, what she saw was far more odd.

An owl.

A small owl, snowy white, with big black eyes and a shrill voice.

Alina yelped and ducked under the window like the owl was going to attack her. In this part of town, it was almost impossible to find large birds, and she wasn't very keen on having it notice her.

After a bit, however, her curiosity got the better of her, and she rose up again.

The owl was still there. In fact, it seemed to be looking straight at her.

She blinked. "Hi," she said quietly, feeling a bit like a total lunatic.

The bird, instead of responding, took flight and disappeared from her sight. Alina breathed a sigh of relief. _Finally,_ she thought. _Sleep! _

She was about to get back under the covers when she saw a far more terrifying sight than the one before: the owl, swooping in and perching itself right on her windowsill, in front of her face.

Alina let out a terrified squeak and fell back onto the bed. "G-Get back!" she said, snatching up a pen from the floor, and brandishing it menacingly. "I have this, and I'm not afraid to use it!"

The bird tilted its head to the left, looking at her with a quiet amusement. And then, in her terror, Alina noticed it's right foot.

In its claws, was a piece of paper. A small, faded brown piece of paper with words and a little stamp. The words read:

_'Alina Lopatkina_

_2nd Largest Bedrom_

_78 Richardson Street_

_Oxyn_

_England'_

With a surprised gasp, the young girl leaned in, staring at the lettering with wide eyes. "What the... that's MY name..."

The owl seemed to notice this, and pecked softly at the window.

Alina made a split second decision and opened the window with cautious, shaking hands. The owl didn't even bother to come in (A shame, she thought. We could have been friends.) and instead, dropped the envelope on her head before flying off.

Alina stared at the letter for a few seconds before shutting and locking her window and crawling under the covers, only leaving her reading light on as she opened the mysterious letter...

* * *

The day of March 3rd was a strange day.

Oh, not that it didn't _seem_ normal enough. No one would've noticed anything out of the ordinary. Lulu had taken her pills, and stood outside a fence.

The sun rose above the black-top, changing the dark grey to a slightly lighter tint. The grass outside of school property was light and damp from the moisture of the air. She was the first one there, the first one to witness the morning sun rise up.

Now, no ordinary student goes to school early. But Lulu wasn't quite normal, even before what had happened.

The morning earlier, she had rushed out of the house before her mom would wake up from her hangover from beer after wine after liquor.

She was one of the few who liked-no. Saying that word would be an understatement. She had loved school, and wasn't a nerd.

Spring was one of her favourite seasons, because it was peaceful and melodic. Quiet and serene.

School was all that different. When kids arrived, they played four-square, (the newest rage at their school) and the shouts of the "YOU'RE OUT!" and pimping fists filled the calm atmosphere, blocking it out.

The teacher handed back the students' tests, as she was left with 'Level 4'

Marcie peered over at her marks, and sighed. "Damn, Lulu. I don't get how you do it!" she exclaimed. "Private tutoring, or what... tell me who taught you!" she complained.

Lulu grinned. "I'm a genius!" she replied, not very modestly. "I teach myself."

At the end of school, she headed home by herself. It was now quiet, now that she was away from the schoolyard and main streets. Hotter now that the sun had risen, but peaceful none the less.

At home, there was a light thud of a dropping bag that no one heard, and many loud bellows of laughter.

"And then I said—listen here—we don't sell tattoos!'" a male voice said.

"I'm home." Lulu said, interfering with their game of Blackjack.

"'bout time." said one of the few female voices there. "Get us some salsa, and then you can go upstairs." said her own mother.

To most people, going upstairs would seem like a punishment. But to her, it was her small escape from reality. And her mom knew that, which made it ever harder. The place reeked of alcohol and salt. She threw them the cucumber dip, and it slid across the table, right into place.

"_Nicely._" her mother ordered, pounding the liquor on the table, as it sloshed around in the bottle, few droplets spilling.

Lulu closed her eyes and bit her lip. She focused and walked over to the round table. She picked the container which was already _on_ the table, mind you, and put it back down in front of her mother.

"There. Now can I actually go _out_ today?" she insisted. Going out was even better than her room.

"Why should I care?" her mom replied, as the gruff voice asked her, "Joanne, hit or stay?"

She walked out the door with many voices yelling gleefully at her "_BUST!_" or, "Pass it up, Joney!"

She sat on the swings at the park, looking at a strange alley cat slender by. She sighed. Even homeless cats seemed freer than herself. Once it started to become dusk, she walked back home, as quietly as possible, and dashed back to her room. The only thing that didn't reek of cigarettes, liquor and other unsanitary ingredients.

She looked at the birds flying in the sky, longingly.

_I wish I was as free as you_. She thought enviously.

But one bird was headed in her direction. Her face. She didn't even flinch as the midnight black owl came her way, though she was quite surprised.

She examined the owl as it landed on her window pane. "Aren't owls nocturnal?" she asked herself.

She looked at the owl, who was sitting awkwardly on her window panel. She confronted it. There must have been a reason. Owl's don't fly into everyone's houses'... she looked at it's leg, and a letter was attached. She pried it off of it. "Stupid trolls..." she muttered, as many at her school she'd bet _would_ be the ones to do this.

As soon as done, it flew off. In the exact direction it came from. She ran towards the window, and nearly hurled herself off watching the bird fly away.

She pivoted back to the letter, and picked it up.

_'Lulu Gallego_

_Third Story Apartment, smallest room_

_16 Huron Avenue_

_Castlynn_

_Britain'_

She looked down, in confusion, but the streets were cleared, the streetlights now on and shining down on the street below. Everyone had been inside.

Everyone but a single tabby cat.

* * *

Fridays were always quite hazy. Alex groggily sat up in his bed, and looked at the alarm sitting across the room. 6:59 AM. He continued to stare at it as the alarm began to blare an endless series of rings.

_I actually went out of my way to set up the alarm last night, and I woke up before it went off... I don't even feel like getting up to turn it off... but I can't deal with this stupid ringing forever... thinking about all of this is such a trouble..._

But he had to attend the last day of school, of course. If not, he could always see his mom or someone yelling at him in Chinese, "Get your lazy bum up!"

But no one was in the house but his grandpa. Even so, if he didn't attend school, the "Machine" would get him and contact his mom, last day of school or not. "Machine" referring to the evil "Attendance." it was like jail roll-call.

He eventually got out of bed and refreshed his clothes, shooting some old ones absentmindedly in the laundry basket. His grandpa was sitting at the breakfast table, a decent breakfast out. Waffles.

"I could've made it, you know." he told his grandpa in Chinese.

"It's a celebratory gift—the last day of school." he replied, as Alex sat down and began to drench his waffles in Maple Syrup, or the fake _corn _syrup.

Alex wolfed down his breakfast and got his school supplies for the final time—well, not really final, but until Grade Six. And report cards. And test results. And Ben would also be participating in some of the last day "fun".

He didn't despise Ben, but over time, Ben had stopped talking to him (except for the always occasional cheerful "hello" in the hallways) and had been more active with Jerry. And Tom. (Yes, he had noticed the coincidence as well.)

After breakfast he shouldered his bag and walked out the door. He slid his hand through the mail slot, and pulled out mail in there.

"Bills, bills, bills," he muttered, throwing them back at the door, until he came across a peculiar one, but as soon as he read it the words 'Witchcraft and Wiz—' he threw it over his free shoulder saying "Troll."

He had gotten a lot of prank mail lately—all for the same people, all anonymously–minus the fake name of 'McGonagall.' What really annoyed him was that they were going too far. He had way too much mail from these pranksters. It seemed quite over-rated. Not to mention the name itself–Hog Warts. What kind of crackpot would name their own school that?

He walked over to school, and looked at everyone enjoying themselves. Some doing a quiet dance, some not-so quiet, but most doing random activities such as the so-called Four Square, Basketball, Soccer, or just irrelevantly relaxing under the shade of a tree.

It seemed quite quiet today, compared to some days, which wasn't saying much, because there were still the shouts of over-reactive kids. You couldn't even hear yourself think, thanks to the screams, mostly from the kids with disorders.

"Hey, Alex!" a voice said, walking towards him. He shut his eyes in horror and tried walking away, gritted teeth. Ben grabbed his arm. "Hey."

Alex spun around and put a believable, fake smile on his face. Ben was Canadian, but had moved to Canada before school even started, so in Pre-School. He was slightly husky, but that didn't mean at all that he was not muscular or dumb or lazy at all. Ben was probably the most athletic person in the class, aside from cheaters and snitches.

"Hey, Ben! Long time no talk. Why aren't you with Tom?" he asked.

"Well, Tom and Jerry—" Alex nearly laughed at this retort, "decided to skim off the last day of school so that they'd have an extra day of Summer vacation." he laughed, although Alex didn't find it amusing. Maybe it was an insiders' joke.

"Yeah. So—" suddenly, Ben was interrupted, and Alex was resolved with a second yell of "Hey, Alex!"

Alex peered over Ben's shoulder to see a British Tom and Vietnamese Jerry come after him, Jerry in his stiff walk and Ben in his funny stroll.

"Hey, Ben. Cody called you earlier." Jerry told the brown haired boy. Ben adjusted his glasses and walked away.

"Alex." Tom said, quietly to only reach Jerry and the person spoken to, "You know about..." he lowered his voice so that hardly anyone could hear "_Hogwarts._"

Alex raised an eyebrow. "So _you_ two were the trolls?" he asked, a mock grin on his face. "That's going a bit overboard. I mean, you gave me like five letters a day..."

"Fine then, don't believe us." Jerry shrugged. "Fred and George are just fine friends to hang with anyway."

The Chinese boy scoffed. "_Professor._" He repeated, seemingly uninterested in the subject. "Look guys—lay off. I already know that you're trolling me..."

Though as Alex thought about it, when Jerry lied—it seemed quite obvious. Then again, he had never really tried... or it seemed as though he didn't...

"Okay, assume that this _Hog's Warts_ is real..." Alex implied simply, "What would I do to get there."

"Did you even read the letter?" Tom asked.

"No..." he replied truthfully.

"Then what's the point of telling us it's _not real._" Tom asked, and widened his eyes when he was saying something serious, but jokingly putting in a humourous innuendo.

"Jesus—when something says 'Hog's Warts school for _Witchcraft and Wizardry', _people can tend to get mislead." Alex replied, "but is this the reason for like, half the year you're not at school?"

"Yeah." Tom replied, "Mum wants me to know a bit of _Muggle Math._ I do agree it'll come handy, but really, it's too depressing to go to two schools. Most of my summer is also spent on it, too..."

"So, what do I do to go to this 'school.'" Alex asked.

"I'll probably be able to go to your house after school, if it's okay with you." Jerry shrugged nonchalantly.

"Um... I guess it's fine. By that time, Grandpa's probably going to be at work and mom's still at work." Alex replied.

"I'll be at your place with Harley—" Jerry paused while Alex laughed. "My brother named it, little piece of garbage—at about four."

They all agreed on the time that Jerry would bring Harley over to Alex's house so that they could send the letter back to this anonymous '_Dumbledore'_ and the school bell rang, as the young ones huddled up to line up for school.

School was quite boring. Alex simply couldn't wait until after school, and would stop receiving mail. But that time came sooner than expected, and Alex ran home.

When he arrived, it was still 3:05 PM. He had to wait fifty-five minutes. He sat on the internet to socially kill some time, and opened a few tabs. He heard a knock on the door and walked casually over.

Jerry stood in the door panel with a large brown barn owl, (which looked nothing similar to a motorcycle,) and let the owl fly around Alex's house, interacting with his other birds (that were not motorcycles either, nor named after any.) and eventually took rest and sat on a bar.

"So." Jerry asked. "You read the letter yet?"

Alex spun around and stared at the letter.

_'Alex Leung_

_Second story, medium room_

_117 Goyeau street_

_Benett,_

_Ireland'_

* * *

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**This is now a collaboration account of Ninjacatnyan and Bottle of Beast, if you have not read our profile. And quickly before you stop reading this (because personally I usually skip author's notes) REVIEW.**


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